


Coexistence

by young_monster



Category: Hollywood Undead (Band)
Genre: Happy Ending (mostly), Love/Hate, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-21
Updated: 2018-02-21
Packaged: 2019-03-21 23:47:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13751727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/young_monster/pseuds/young_monster
Summary: I was always told that if you loved someone, you didn’t hate them, and if you hated someone, you couldn’t love them. It just simply didn’t happen.Then, Johnny taught me differently. He taught me that it was truly possible to love and hate a person, each with my entire being.





	Coexistence

**Author's Note:**

> This is just a quick little one-shot, but be sure to check the end notes for a little poll!

I never thought love and hate could coexist. I always figured that one couldn’t exist in the presence of the other. They were on opposite sides of the spectrum; when you loved someone, you wanted to give them every nice thing in the universe, and make sure they lived the best life they could. When you hated someone, you wanted to see their world burn, and maybe even be the cause of their pain and suffering. 

I was always told that if you loved someone, you didn’t hate them, and if you hated someone, you couldn’t love them. It just simply didn’t happen. 

Then, Johnny taught me differently. He taught me that it was truly possible to love and hate a person, each with my entire being. 

I loved how caring he was. He would always make sure that I was doing alright, and if something had gotten me down, he would do his best to bring me back up. He cared enough that he would never leave me by myself - he knew that I didn’t like to be alone -  so he always made sure that one of the guys was with me. 

I loved how when Theresa had left me, he had offered to live with me. He started out sleeping in the spare room, giving me my space, but making sure that I knew I wasn’t alone. I loved how careful he was with me, and how amazingly he helped me through it all. 

I loved how when we started dating, he respected me. He never pushed me to do something I was uncomfortable with, and he accepted the fact that I was still reeling from Theresa. 

Everything he did seemed to reinforce the fact that when you love someone, they seem to be perfect. It went on like that for some months, and then I began to learn how wrong I was. I began to hate some aspects of him. It started out as small, seemingly inconsequential things. 

I hated how he would refuse to clean the dishes until they filled the entire sink and smelled horrible. I hated how he would also refuse to clean his apartment, and I would always end up doing it whenever I stayed over. 

Then, I began to hate more meaningful things. I hated how much he drank, and how he was an angry drunk. I began to hate how short his temper was. He hid it from me during the beginning of our relationship, but as we got more comfortable with each other, he didn’t hide it as much. He had violent anger, but he never physically took it out on me.  

I hated how he would say terrible, hurtful things in his rage, calm down, and expect a few kisses to wipe the slate clean. I hated how he sometimes seemed to take me for granted, even if I knew he never did. 

I hated how I could never seem to think of anything other than him. Whether it was about something good or something bad, I could never get him out of my head. Maybe it was about the way he smiled, or the way he talked, or maybe about how he got angry that morning, but he never seemed to leave my thoughts alone. 

I couldn’t tell if he felt anything close to how I felt about him. He told me he loved me, but then he would also spit insults freely. I couldn’t tell which was more genuine, and I hated it. 

I couldn’t tell what I wanted for myself. On one hand, I wanted for him to hold me tightly and never let me go. On the other hand, I wanted to scream in his face, and never see him again.

One side didn’t seem to outweigh the other. They seemed equal, or at least close enough that the love wasn’t outweighed by the hate. 

“Hey, Danny.” 

I looked up to Johnny, realizing that I had zoned out during our movie night. He wrapped his arms around me, bringing me in closer to him. I hated how he didn’t ask me if I wanted to cuddle, but I loved how comforting he felt, and how gentle yet loving he was to me. 

“What’re you thinking about?” He asked me, giving me a small smile and a light kiss on my forehead. 

I hated how he often asked what I was thinking, but I loved how much he seemed to care about the answer. “Just… thinking about us.”

“Anything specific?” 

I shook my head. “Just how much I love you.” I didn’t mention the hate part, but it was always there in the back of mind. 

“I love you too.” 

I hated how desperate I was to hear him say that, but I loved how genuine he sounded.

Maybe love and hate weren’t always supposed to coexist. Maybe Johnny was the one exception.

I wanted for him to lead the happiest life he possibly could, and I wanted to be a big part of that. 

I also wanted for his entire world to crumble around him, and maybe be the main cause of it. 

Maybe it was enough that I still loved him, even with the hate. He had his shortcomings, but he was also an amazing person. And it’s not like I think of myself as perfect; I have my own shitty temper, sometimes I act childish, and even selfish. 

Maybe I was just over analyzing every little thing. Johnny and I worked; our relationship wasn’t broken, not by any means. Even after the years we’ve been together, I still loved him. Sure, I kind of hated him a decent amount of the time too, but love conquers all, right? 

I looked to Johnny, who was still focusing on whatever movie was playing. He noticed me staring, and smiled. 

“What’s up, babe?” 

I brought my hand up to cup his cheek, and searched his piercing blue eyes. “I love you,” I told him, trying to pour every ounce of sincerity into those three little words. 

Johnny smiled, and damn if I didn’t hate how perfect he looked. “I love you too, little lion.” 

I smiled back, then laid my head on his shoulder as he went back to focusing on the movie. His words were heartfelt; he was adamant in his love for me. Just as I was for him. 

Yeah, I was definitely overanalyzing everything. What we had was amazing. There was no need to question why I felt the things I felt, or why he did the things that he did.

I just laid there in his arms, and watched the movie. And it felt perfect in every damn way. 

**Author's Note:**

> So, I have three big stories either planned or being written, and I don't know which one to post, so please tell me in the comments which one you'd like to see! They all have a more or less similar plot, but the settings are all different. 
> 
> 1\. The government has decided that censorship of all media is crucial. The guys formed Hollywood Undead as a rebellion, but they were shut down and placed in a mental asylum. Aileen, a college student who had avidly listened to their music with her little sister, is placed in the same asylum. They can all agree on one thing: they gotta break out. 
> 
> 2\. Danny was just another prostitute on the streets of Hollywood, who gets kidnapped by the Undead, the gang who basically owns the City of Angels. He's forced to live as their personal slave, but eventually, he doesn't find it so bad. *Stockholm Syndrome*
> 
> 3\. It's the late nineteenth century, at the height of boss politics, where money equals power. Currently, there are six men in charge of the entirety of the City of Angels, known only as the Undead. They never show their faces, and they are willing to do whatever it takes to remain at the top. Daniel Murillo is an up and coming lawyer, attempting to become Congressman, who wants to reform the entire political machine. The Undead just want him out of the way. 
> 
> So, yeah, let me know what you think about any of these in the comments, or if you want some other prompt not on the list!


End file.
